


The Final Test

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extra Treat, Gags, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Object Insertion, Post-Avengers (2012), Power Imbalance, Rape to Show Loyalty, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: A feeling like sour milk spoils Loki’s stomach. He does not want to do this. Loki wants Thor to scream at him, spit at his feet, and give Loki every reason to smack the taste from his mouth. But Loki has never desired to conquer his brother in this way. It was Thor’s esteem he coveted, Thor’s place among Asgard’s court. Thor’s friends and admirers, Thor’s otherworldly strength.A powerless Thor’s body is no prize to Loki. But Thanos watches from the steps of the great hall.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	The Final Test

**Author's Note:**

  * For [servicetopthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/servicetopthor/gifts).



The battle is won. What was once the Midgardian threshold known as New York City is now a smoldering pile of rubble. A nuclear weapon lays waste to much of the city. Those who remain are overrun by the legion of Chitauri under Loki’s command.

Under Thanos’ command, that is, but Loki’s by proxy.

Loki aches after his encounter with the Hulk, but victory makes the pain manageable. The Other’s threats will remain that: only threats. There will be no more “if you fail,” for Loki has not failed. He has won the day for the great Thanos, and the Titan himself arrives to see to the culling of Earth’s population. Of those who remain, half will be slaughtered. The details of Thanos’ grand plan remain foggy to Loki, but it doesn’t matter. Loki has completed his end of their bargain and proven himself loyal. For Loki, the reward shall be great. And, most importantly, the punishment shall be null.

The rest of Earth falls quickly and quietly without their precious Avengers. Loki wonders after their fate but finds mixed answers. Dead, some say. Imprisoned, say others. Perhaps they will be turned, one speculates. They were an unexpected nuisance. Under different circumstances, their power would have impressed Loki. But all they did was slow Loki’s advances and cause greater strife with the Other.

Thanos’ mouthpiece has been silent since the victory over New York. Licking his wounds, no doubt. It is in Loki’s nature to demand recompense for his treatment by the disrespectful oaf. But to raise such complaints would be to invite scrutiny.

Loki will not allow Thanos to doubt him. He cannot. Loki remembers well what he suffered through when he did not have Thanos’ trust. When he still hoped for escape. When he believed there was a fate for him that did not mean acting as Thanos’ puppet.

Loki can live with the bargain. He is no friend of Earth, and watching its people suffer has the added benefit of wounding Thor. Let them burn and rise again under Loki’s rule. Thanos will be far away by then, spreading his plans of universal control far from this small solar system. The fall of a backwards civilization is a small price to pay for a god’s freedom.

For now, though, Loki must act the subservient. He does so willingly, bending to one knee before Thanos. The great Titian stands on the steps of the wide hall once known as Grand Central Station. Holes splinter the walls, caused by the bodies of Avengers Loki hopes.

Loki lowers his head respectfully, but he cannot help his smile. “Almighty Thanos,” he greets, “I trust the day’s outcome pleases you?” Before him, he sets the scepter, an infinity stone powering its apex.

“It does,” Thanos agrees. Though far from this battle, Thanos wears his gold armor and helmet.

Loki lifts his head but stays on his knee. A small part of him nags at the show of subjugation. Loki was raised to lead, not follow, a thing even the All-Father forgot. The old lying fool. May he see the power Loki has when not forced to live in the shadow of a brother who earned his place by blood alone.

Speaking of Thor.

His brother is dumped unceremoniously at Loki’s side. Chains bind Thor's arms behind his back. The iron bears runes in a language familiar to Loki but not immediately decipherable. Mjolnir is not with Thor, nor is the great hammer carving new holes through the walls to come to Thor’s aid. The symbols on his chains must have some binding property.

In this weakened state, Thor looks worse for wear. His hair sticks to a face swollen with bruises. A metal gag covers his mouth. His armor is pierced at his side. Where Loki stabbed him, Loki remembers. The realization brings a smile to his face. Quite a change for his warrior brother. Beloved true son of Odin and Frigga. So-called Guardian of Midgard.

Loki has stolen that last title from Thor. Thor was incapable of loving Loki, and he shall not have this realm of puny mortals either. They will be Loki’s, made to serve him. And they will rejoice in the knowledge that they live each day thanks to Loki’s benevolence. Thor, his dear false brother, will be powerless to stop him.

“Your reward,” Thanos says. His voice seems to vibrate through the tiles under Loki’s knee.

This was indeed their bargain. Loki would conquer Midgard and procure the tesseract for Thanos. In exchange, the planet Earth would fall under Loki's sole rule. The fate of the Avengers is Thanos' to decide, but Thor will be Loki's alone.

“You do me a great honor,” Loki says, fist to his chest. His feelings on Thanos’ greater aspirations will remain just that - his alone. Loki has Earth, and he has Thor at his mercy. The rest of Thanos' design is of no consequence.

When Loki raises his head, he finds Thanos watching him expectantly. “Great one?” Loki bids.

“Your reward,” Thanos repeats. “And your proof of fealty.”

Loki looks down at Thor. Right...his fealty.

Loki remembers his oath sworn in the bowels of Thanos’ ship. Promises he made while screaming in agony at the end of the Maw’s sadistic tools. Yes, he would conquer Earth for Thanos. Yes, he would procure the tesseract at all personal cost. Yes, he would seal his loyalty to Thanos with his brother’s body.

Loki would have sworn anything in those moments. He _did_ swear anything, most of which seems to have been of no consequence to Thanos. Why this promise is being forced upon Loki when Thanos shrugged away so many others is curious.

Loki frowns at Thor.

It’s not as if Thor is actually his brother, nor are they friends or warriors under the same banner. What better time for Thor to be brought low like his precious Earth? And who better to remind Thor of his place than the one who lived under his shadow for so long?

Loki uses a combination of daggers and hands to cut through Thor’s armor. It is somewhat alarming how little fight Thor puts up. Even without the might of Mjolnir, Loki expects Thor to kick and fuss. The only attempt Thor makes to protect himself is tucking his chest against his knees. A swift kick to Thor's side solves this problem. Loki makes easy contact with Thor’s ribs, and when the air whooshes out of Thor his tension does too. He staggers, and it is simple enough for Loki to slice and tear until Thor is completely naked.

Loki laughs in the aftermath. He cannot remember a time when Thor was so vulnerable, not even when Odin reduced him to a pathetic mortal. Thor is powerless and sluggish, entirely at Loki’s mercy. His ox-like physique is far less intimidating when curled on his side like a cowering child. Thor's skin is dirty and streaked with blood. The cut Loki applied to Thor’s side is still open, a lazy drop of red tracing Thor’s hip.

The only problem is, power is quick to lose its novelty.

When Thor makes eye contact, Loki expects to see the full range of Thor’s anger. Murderous rage, offense, unspoken promises of revenge. The blustering soon-to-be king glowering a hole through the monster of Jotunheim!

But Thor does not look angry. He does not look sad or worried either. It’s as if life itself has been wrung out of Thor leaving this husk of a body behind. His blue eyes look almost gray in this light.

The fun of provoking Thor is, well, _provoking_ him. If Thor refuses to be provoked - or worse, if Thor cannot be provoked - Loki’s upper hand loses all advantage.

A feeling like sour milk spoils Loki’s stomach. He does not want to do this. Loki wants Thor to scream at him, spit at his feet, and give Loki every reason to smack the taste from his mouth. But Loki has never desired to conquer his brother in this way. It was Thor’s esteem he coveted, Thor’s place among Asgard’s court. Thor’s friends and admirers, Thor’s otherworldly strength.

A powerless Thor’s body is no prize to Loki. But Thanos watches from the steps of the great hall. He has an infinity stone in his possession and another in the scepter Loki presented to him like a fool.

Loki crooks a finger so slightly that only the most astute would notice. Unseen seiðr works quietly. If Thor notices the sudden presence of oil between his legs, he gives no indication. It is the best Loki can do.

Plastering a smile to his face for his benefactor, he eases Thor’s legs apart.

Thor is worryingly tight for Loki’s single, slender finger. He grunts at Loki’s breach and writhes with lethargic twists. A heavy breath shudders from Thor’s flared nostrils.

Loki never cared much about Thor’s extracurriculars. Thor was often as drunk on his own power as he was on ale. He was no stranger to taking curvy tavern maids to bed. On more than one occasion, Loki recalls Thor engaging with men too. Fellow warriors in most cases, but there was that blacksmith from the other side of the main square. A few other outliers as well.

Thor should be more pliant after 1500 years of life and who knows how many rendezvous. But working a single finger into him is like squeezing through wound rubber. Oiled through Thor is, his body is tense as solid muscle. The basic motion of a crooked finger makes Thor choke on his breath. Thor turns from Loki, eyes squeezed shut. He cannot even muster disgust, the fool. What a pathetic display!

A pulsing, frantic anger froths up from Loki’s stomach. He is only being what they believe him to be, isn’t he? The monster under every sweet child’s bed. He who threatened to murder an entire race. Who brought ruin upon a whole realm. He, Loki, will defile the one he once called ‘brother.’ Loki refuses to feel guilt over being what _they_ forced him to become.

He lengthens his strokes and adds a second finger to the first. Thor remains an unresponsive lump of flesh on the floor. New beads of sweat roll down his face and soak into his filthy hair. Thor refuses to look at Loki, eyes closed and head bowed.

Furiously, Loki recedes long enough to apply oil to the hilt of a dagger. It squishes around the steel, caking into the finger grooves. “Not enough for you, brother? I have just the thing,” he mutters, and he pushes the hilt into Thor’s hole.

The action earns a sharp grunt, and Thor’s eyes squeeze tighter. It isn’t much, but it’s some emotion. A sign that Thor is not a complete shell of himself.

“Creative,” Thanos says from the steps.

Loki throbs with anger and illness, but he forces a weak smile. “I am known to be from time to time,” he agrees.

If the fates were kind, Loki would disassociate from himself in this moment. It would hardly be the first time. Loki has perfected falsehoods over his long life. Playing the attentive, dutiful son and brother. Following Thor’s every footstep. Doting over Thor's soon to be kingship while plotting its demise from the shadows.

There were other times too. A void that Loki presumed to be endless. Falling, constant, never ending. Space became a blur of distant stars and systems, and Loki existed only as their doomed neighbor.

But the fall ended, and his next fall began. There were sharp, surgical apparatus. Days and nights without food or drink. The visions. The nightmares. The screaming. The sworn loyalty. Yes, of course Loki would bow before the great Titan. It would be his honor and privilege to seize Earth in the name of Thanos. And should his brother (no, not brother) cross his path? Loki would seize Thor as well. Ransack Thor's body until he knew every ounce of pain Loki himself had felt.

But the floor remains unforgiving and very real against Loki’s knees. Before him, Thor shakes - a quivering, pathetic ball of limbs. Pain thrums through Thor like a humming motor. It is near impossible to see his face past the mess of his hair.

But it is easy, far too easy, for Loki to see his dagger. Thor’s body is too tight to do anything other than hold it. The crown of Thor’s hole is an angry red, and the blade points out of Thor's body like a stern, accusing finger. Thor holds his legs wide apart to dispel the danger of the blade lodging in his skin.

Can Heimdall see this, Loki wonders? Can Odin?

Loki conjures the oil again, for his own hands this time. The slick squelch between his fingers is an assault on his senses. He grins through it, thinking not of Thor but Odin. This is Odin's punishment, not Thor’s. This is what the All-Father has wrought upon his house of lies. The curse he bore upon his people when he stole a baby from the frozen fields of Jotunheim.

Loki tells himself that he deserves this revenge when he shoves Thor to his back. He ignores Thor’s gag-strangled protest when his weight slams down on his bound wrists. The blade of the dagger clangs against the floor. Loki pays it no mind as he winds his wet hands around Thor’s cock. All of this will be worth it for Odin’s ruin. Let him see the plague he’s brought upon his beloved only son.

Loki finds little pleasure in stroking what does not desire his touch. Adrenaline rushes like the sea through Loki’s ears. A knot of tension pulls between Thor’s shut eyes. His lips quiver around the gag. For Loki’s fingers, Thor’s cock refuses to twitch.

With a scowl, Loki changes his efforts. He loosens his clenched fingers and caresses Thor with soft, sweet touches. His sole pressure is in the thumb he drags up the base of Thor’s length.

The creases beside Thor’s eyes dig deeper. He shakes his head, and his great inhale shivers. “That’s it,” Loki mutters. “Why deny yourself? You do so love to be touched, don’t you, Thor? To be adored.”

Loki alternates his pressure, tight followed by gentle. His strokes are applied as sweetly to Thor’s balls. Loki cups them, rolls them lovingly. A quiet sound rumbles under Thor’s gag, something that splinters into a higher pitch and drifts off in an exhale.

Finally, a swell of interest as Thor’s cock thickens in Loki’s fingers. He warms, glossy with oil, curving with arousal towards his own belly. Loki tries to think of it only as what it is. A penis, no different from any other. It is hardly the first Loki has had. He is a god of many persuasions and personas, but the male sex has always had its charms for Loki.

He can treat this like a game. Pretend this is some grand performance. And it is, somewhat. A performance for a very powerful audience.

A game, Loki tells himself, rising to his feet. He gives a short bow to his benefactor. With a wave of his hand, his armor is off and folded in a neat pile on the ground.

The shame Loki expects to feel at standing exposed before Thanos does not come. Perhaps Loki has already surrendered too much of himself. The body holds little weight for one of Loki’s mastery of shapeshifting. And this body, that which Loki grew into, is not his true form. That truth is an ugly, runed thing, a blue abomination that even Thor has not seen.

But this clean-skinned Asgardian sham? It is a puppet paraded out for a purpose. Loki kneels on the floor, straddling Thor’s waist. He will not think, he refuses to, and lowers himself down.

Loki can handle Thor’s size. He has had bigger, and rougher. At this moment, Loki controls everything. The speed of his rise and fall, the angle of his descent, where he sets his hand for balance, how he wishes to direct his legs.

It is not Thor’s size. No, it’s the fact that it’s _Thor._ It is his brother pressed to the hilt inside him.

(No, not his brother. Thor is _not_ Loki’s brother. Lies from those too arrogant to care about the pain their deceit would cause.)

Loki tries to look anywhere else. At the broken floor stretching into a network of pathways down into the station. At body-sized holes carved into the walls. At Thanos himself. But inevitably, Loki's eyes return to Thor. Thor twists his head to the side at an ugly angle, dirty hair strewn about his sweat-caked face. His brother's chest rises and falls rapidly.

(No. Not brother. Thor is _not_ Loki’s brother.)

(Only...yes, yes he is. Loki is riding his brother’s cock as his brother lies bound and gagged beneath him.)

Bile rises up Loki’s throat. He wants to cry. To scream. To laugh up towards the heavens at the so-called gods watching from their faraway home. But Loki does none of these things. He continues, because anything is better than looking at his brother’s dead stare.

Loki rams himself down in a furious panic. This moment, this disgusting thing, is all Thor’s fault! Is it not Thor’s role in life to thwart Loki at every turn? To best Loki in feats of bravery and might? To win every battle and peacock his victories before his adoring Asgardian court?

Why did Thor and his pathetic mortals lose? Why did they not defeat Loki? Why were they too weak and stupid to _stop this_? Perhaps it would have been better had they won. Perhaps-

No, Loki has seen what Thanos can do in a foul temper. Were Midgard to thwart him, the whole universe would have felt his wrath. At least this way, Loki lives, as does Thor. This humiliation will end, and Thanos will move on to his next conquest and leave them be.

In this thought, Loki finds motivation. He forces himself down again, again, again. Over Thor, he squeezes his own cock and bites his lip at the feelings his own touches provoke. Loki does not need to enjoy this. He simply needs it to end. It will end when Thanos is satisfied, and Thanos will find his satisfaction in theirs.

Loki works himself to a lather, panting out hoarse breaths as he angles himself for more. Thor’s chest jumps with a staggering breath. Loki ignores it, and him, as much as possible. He only chases his own pleasure - or at least the relief of knowing this will soon be over. Loki needs to play his part and follow the script to the end. It’s close now, so close. The finale trembles through Loki’s tired thighs and floods through the small of his back.

Finally, thank the Norns, Loki comes with a quiet moan. He tosses his head back for show, hair sticking to his naked shoulders. With his eyes closed, he clings to the performance. A satisfying climax, a slight smile on gaping lips as his orgasm wrings through his body.

The contented mask shatters at the buck of pressure under Loki’s rear. With it, warmth soaks his insides in a succession of hot, jutted spurts. Thor’s face bears a sticky flush, but he does not make a sound.

It is like Thor’s seed sears Loki’s insides. Loki's mind and spirit recoil. He wants to leap off of Thor like he’s springing off a bed of flames. _Get him out of me,_ a voice shrieks inside Loki. He has never felt so cognizant of being flooded. _Get him out, get him out, get him out!_

With wobbly arms, Loki scrambles to freedom, his knees painfully hitting the floor. Seed drips from his thighs and smears across his bottom. Loki shudders, stomach rolling.

He sees his tremors mirrored in Thor shivering on his back. If not for the subtle movement, Loki would wonder if Thor still lived. He stares out into the distance, never blinking. Though Thor’s chest rises and falls, Loki cannot hear him breathe. Thor’s thighs are also wet, his from his own blood. Shallow lines mark Thor's skin, no doubt from the dagger still wedged between his legs.

With trembling fingers, Loki pinches the blade and plucks the weapon out. Thor’s body twitches back, an instinctive recoil. But Thor makes no sound when he is vacated. His asshole, glossy and open, bears a furious blush around the rim.

Shakily, Loki forces himself to his feet. He dresses himself with a wave of a hand. It is within Loki’s power to clean himself beneath his armor too, dry up his insides and the sticky discomfort between his legs. For reasons his mind refuses to dwell on, he does not. Loki shifts uncomfortably before Thanos but offers a smile nonetheless. He tries not to think of his naked brother still on his back behind him.

Thanos’ heavy steps clank down the steps of the grand hall. He walks at a methodical pace, allowing every step to reverberate down Loki’s spine. It would not surprise Loki, even now, to find Thanos’ hand around his neck. What a fitting end for this macabre performance.

Instead, Thanos pats Loki’s head, condescending and gentle. “Well done, little one,” he says. “You’ve earned your prize.”

From the floor, Thanos retrieves the staff bearing his second infinity stone. Loki is surprised when Thanos holds the weapon out to him. “I’ll let you choose,” he says.

Loki’s eyes widen when the decision becomes clear to him, and he turns to look at Thor. Asgard’s prince is a mess on the floor, spattered with blood, bruises, and come. If Thor is aware of Thanos’ proximity, he shows no sign. His vacant eyes may as well belong to a corpse.

With one tap of the mind stone, this can all end. Loki can have a doting older brother eager to serve and protect him. One who would live in Loki's shadow by choice and revel in whatever pursuits Loki impressed upon him.

With one touch, Thor would have life in his eyes again. Fake, of course. Yet another lie on top of the mountain Loki has been fed his entire life. But at least this time, Loki would be in on the joke. And Loki would spare his brother the pain of this moment, both physical and mental. Loki has rightfully dissented against Thor, fought him, hated him with a passion. But even Loki would not wish this knowledge on Thor. Loki can spare Thor the burden, allow him to feel again.

“Thank you for the offer,” Loki says quietly. His ‘no’ goes unspoken.

Thanos pulls back the scepter. Without another word, he proceeds past Loki and Thor, a weighted path to the inner bowels of Grand Central. For what purpose, Loki cannot know. Nor, at the moment, can he muster the concern to care.

Thanos leaves Loki alone with Thor bound and unresponsive at his feet. It is Loki's wildest boyhood fantasy come true. His brother utterly conquered, fate in Loki’s hands. _He deserves this,_ the voice hisses inside. _They all do. They deserve to know every shred of your pain._

Loki turns his back to Thor, arms circled around his armored waist. Tears shine in his eyes as he stares out on the broken hall.

“The one time,” he mutters under his breath. “The _one time_ you don’t win...”


End file.
